Still in the womb, I struggle
Tossing, toiling to come out.
Still in the warmth, the coziness
Secure in the womb.
To come out wouldn't be a birth -
It would be rather a resurrection.
The pain of labour do not bother me,
Though I wonder how to
And who would cut the umbilical cords.
For I have to pass through the process
Countless, countless times.
Once I am through, I hope,
I will crawl, I will stand,
I will walk, I will run -
I will grow wings and fly away.